Two Poems:
“El Americano in the Mirror” by Richard Blanco
“How to Love Your Neighbor” by Barbara Kingsolver
A Poem:
Beautifully Eccentric
by ljkemp
Maybe you don’t remember, or don’t want to, or
maybe, like me, you’ve never been able to forget.
Of the latter would mean you have forgiveness in
your heart. For now you share with me (and the world)
photos of your daughter, the image of you when we
were just this young, jumping off the swings of the
Baker Hill playground up through the air landing
unsoftly in the Colosseum, middle school gladiators
fighting for our lives, our identities, for our positions.
Did you feel I abandoned you? When I turned my back
on my true friend. Left you alone to make kitchen
concoctions, to dance solo to Thriller in front of MTV
while in the bathroom I learned to apply blue eyeliner
inside my lids and mascara to match. Why didn’t you
try harder to hold on? Or maybe you did. Maybe you
let out more rope and instead of grabbing it, I let it
go. Let you go.
Why did I trade ice skating in socks on hard wood floors
for EGs and Reeboks? I wish I had emulated your
eccentricity and your fashion flair instead of begging
for overpriced designer jeans and a Benetton rugby. Why
was it so easy for you to not fit in? Maybe it wasn’t.
Maybe you weren’t meant to. Maybe you had a stronger
sense of who you were. Wise beyond your years with less
fear or more fear and more courage. You were so good in
so many ways. Able to announce your rebel kindness in
letters much too loud on the back of your jacket, with pants
in colors much too bright to blend in. You were perfect in
every way, and I still turned in the other direction.
Italics:
The opening line is from Blanco’s poem and the later italicized line is from Kingsolver’s poem. Blanco’s poem also served as a mentor poem.
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